Page 16 of Crown of Serpents

“It only takes one glance to become trapped in stone forever.”

Finally, one of them grunted, “Let the bitch pass. We’ve lost enough today … besides, she probably won’t survive those wounds anyway. If not the blood loss, then the poison on that arrow will finish her off.”

Slowly, they parted for her, and she forced herself upright, fighting the dizziness that threatened to pull her under. They retreated, their eyes fixed on the ground, as she hobbled toward the gate. The urge to vomit, to collapse, was overwhelming, but she fought it back. Showing weakness now would be her death.

As she reached the forest edge, no relief spread through her, only dread. The splintered arrow tore through her muscle withevery step. With each fleeting moment, her strength waned as the poison spread through her body, setting her limbs ablaze. Still, she pressed on, her hand against the wound.

The terrain grew steeper and more treacherous. She almost stumbled over a large moss-covered boulder.

Everything became a haze as the cave entrance loomed before her. With a final, desperate surge, Medusa stumbled into its welcoming darkness, collapsing onto the cold stone floor. Oblivion claimed her before her head even hit the ground.

Medusa did not wake as a hunched figure materialised beside her unconscious form. She did not stir when the withered crone knelt, her gnarled hands shoving a foul-tasting antidote down Medusa’s throat. Not even the agonising procedure of removing the arrow from her thigh or stitching up her abdomen woke Medusa from her slumber.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Perseus and Kleos exchanged horrified glances as they beheld the grisly scene before them. Anger, terror, and grief were etched onto the petrified faces of the statues. Some still held the weapons they had sought to defend themselves within their stone-hard grip. One figure lay shattered on the ground, its marble limbs cracked and broken. Athena had spoken true; Medusa had come to the Cisthene.

Kleos circled the statues, his fingers brushing against the cold marble in morbid fascination. Behind them, a crowd of scared villagers had gathered, watching them with intent eyes. They were eager to tell the terrible tale of how the gorgon had ambushed their town three nights ago, butchering innocent villagers. Some boasted how they had chased the monster off, yet none dared to venture into the looming forest where she had fled.

Perseus’s hazel eyes followed a trail of dried blood that snaked across the cobblestones, leading to the city gate. Beyond,the trail vanished, the blood stains lost into the dense undergrowth of the forest, where a thick unnatural mist clung to the pines and cypresses, obscuring the path ahead.

Perseus turned to Kleos. “I need you to stay back. Take the king’s epetae and wait with them on the ship with the other sailors.” He gestured toward Linus and the other guards, who had donned their bronze armour and lingered behind them.

Kleos bristled, crossing his arms across his broad chest, “No way. I’m not letting you face Medusa alone.”

Perseus’s jaw tightened. He wore Athena’s shield and Hermes’ flying sandals. Kleos had no such protection. “That isn’t a request, Kleos. It’s an order.”

Kleos grinned. “And what are you gonna do if I disobey, Son of Zeus? Ask your old man to strike me down with a lightning bolt?”

Perseus whirled around, ensuring the sentinels were out of earshot. He had told Kleos what had occurred the morning after Athena’s visit. But Perseus wasn’t keen on anyone else discovering his heritage. He had always kept that part of him hidden, and that would not change just because his sire had suddenly recognised him after twenty-three years of nothing.

Perseus punched his friend in the ribs. “I don’t need lightning bolts. I can knock you on your ass just fine with my sword.”

Kleos erupted in laughter, his head thrown back. He cocked his head, his hand hovering over the hilt of his broadsword. “Be my guest. But as long as I can still walk after, I’m coming with you.”

Perseus shook his head. Once again, his friend was as stubborn as a mule.

Linus and his men approached them. He directed his cold gaze at Perseus, dark brow raised in challenge. “After you,fish boy.”

Perseus ignored Linus’s sneer, leading the men toward the looming pines, their weapons raised as they inched forward. A winding path ran into the heart of the wood. They followed its sharp turns, their eyes searching for any movement in the underbrush. But there was nothing. No fluttering wings, no scurrying creatures. An eerie silence hung in the air as if theywere the only living beings in this desolate realm.

Hours passed in this silent march. Perseus, with Kleos at his heels, had long lost the blood trail. There were no footsteps, no broken branches to guide them. Yet, an inexplicable pull drew him onward, a humming in his chest urging him deeper into the woods.

Slowly, the landscape shifted. Pines and cypresses gave way to ancient yew trees, their gnarled roots spreading across the forest floor, their dark foliage sprinkled with red berries.

A howl pierced through the eerie quiet, followed by a low growl. Kleos stopped abruptly, the guards behind him stumbling into his broad back.

His eyes scanned the dense treeline. “The villagers never mentioned the wolves.”

“Scared, Son of Adamantios?” Erastus, the guard who had just bumped into Kleos, sneered.

Kleos glowered at the wiry man, squaring his shoulders in challenge.

Perseus intervened before his friend could initiate a brawl. “Let’s keep going. I want to be out of this forest before nightfall.”

The shadows stretched as the sun began its descent. Perseus led the group up a steep incline, climbing over boulders. The howling grew more insistent, beckoning him deeper into the woods. The higher they climbed, the louder the wails became, a haunting chorus that echoed through the ancient trees. Yet, there was no sign of the creatures themselves, no flash of fur or glint of teeth in the undergrowth. Still, the howls accompanied them with each step as if guiding the way.

Finally, Perseus rounded a sharp corner, stopping before a fork in the path. One trail led up a steep incline, the path rocky and unforgiving. The other led down a winding path toward a distant valley shrouded in shadows. Beside the fork stood a small hut, its moss-covered walls blending seamlessly with the surrounding foliage.

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